The attic was a world of its own, with slanted ceilings and dusty beams. The air was thick with the musty scent of forgotten years, each box hiding its own story. I had come up here to retrieve some winter clothes, but the shifting wall had stopped me in my tracks.
It wasn’t a dramatic movement, just a gentle undulation, as if the plaster was breathing. I leaned in closer, squinting in the dim light to see if I could discern what was causing it.
My initial thought was pests. Perhaps a family of squirrels had made their home in the walls, or worse, termites. But this seemed different, more sinister somehow. I gently tapped the wall, listening for a hollow sound, anything that might give away a hidden cavity.
The wall responded with a soft creak, like an old door opening—a sound that sent shivers down my spine.
I decided I couldn’t deal with this alone. Pulling out my phone, I scrolled through my contacts, hesitating over who to call. An exterminator? A contractor? In the end, I dialed my brother, Kevin, who lived nearby and had a knack for these sorts of things.
« Hey, Kev, I’m in the attic, » I started, trying to keep my voice steady. « I need you to come over. There’s something weird going on with the wall up here. »
There was a pause on the line before he replied, « Weird how? Like, ghost weird or home improvement weird? »
« More like… I’m not sure. It’s moving. I just need another pair of eyes. »
« Alright, I’ll be there in twenty, » he replied, sounding more intrigued than concerned.
With Kevin on his way, I sat on the floor, my back against a pile of old newspapers, and waited. I tried to distract myself by sorting through a box of old photos, but my eyes kept darting back to the wall, watching for any sign of movement.
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